The place I thought was a dream—
the illusion I once mocked as a fantasy of my fractured mind—
was real.
I awoke again in that quiet house.
The walls still wept wind,
each crack breathing out a tired sigh of winter's ghost.
That same dim candle still stood its ground,
flickering, fragile,
yet never giving up the will to burn.
And again—
her voice.
"Are you okay?"
I turned.
This time, I could see her.
She wasn't just a glow anymore—
not just the blinding light I once couldn't bear to face.
No, she was real.
And more painfully beautiful than any salvation I ever dared to imagine.
Eyes like oceans that had forgotten how to rest.
Depths of sadness that should never belong to someone like her.
Eyes that reflected me—
my brokenness, my past,
my very soul unspoken…
And they were crying.
Why?
Why were her eyes weeping?
Why did the light around her seem to dim
with every breath I took?
Why did her warmth look like it was vanishing
the longer I stayed?
And why…
why did that pain in her eyes
feel like it was because of me?
I wanted to ask.
I wanted to scream.
I wanted to fall on my knees and beg her not to fade.
But I said nothing.
I just looked.
Because she was mesmerising.
Because even in her tears,
she was the only pure thing I had seen
in all of existence.
And that purity—
it hurt more than any blade I'd ever known.
She came closer.
One step.
Two.
Every movement she made
felt like a storm in my chest.
Like every beat of this lifeless heart
was trying to restart—
not because it wanted to live,
but because it wanted her.
I couldn't breathe.
Or maybe she had stolen that breath, too.
My body felt heavy, yet light.
My soul…
my soul felt like it had finally left.
Not in death—
but in surrender.
Because she was the salvation I had sought.
She was the one feeling
I thought I could never feel again.
The warmth.
The light.
The peace.
But that peace was not mine.
It never was.
And I knew it.
Just like before.
Just like every time
fate let me taste something good,
only to rip it away
and remind me
that I am not meant to have it.
This wasn't a gift.
This was the cruelty of hope.
A moment of what could have been.
A breath of a life that would never be mine.
A mercy that fate would never allow to stay.
I closed my eyes—
not because I wanted sleep,
but because I couldn't bear to watch
the only light I ever loved
fade away again.
And as the last thought left me,
I whispered in my mind:
"Maybe… this is all I'll ever get.
A glimpse.
A taste.
Just enough to remember
what I'll never be allowed to have."